


sunspots

by ohwickedsoul



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Confessions, Fluff, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, Kageyama Tobio is Bad at Feelings, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:33:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28032456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohwickedsoul/pseuds/ohwickedsoul
Summary: Kageyama Tobio has sunspots in his vision. Not real sunspots, the sun isn't actually out right now, but instead something much more dazzling and vivid.Hinata’s face is bright, very bright, sunlight in every pore, and it feels like Kageyama has to blink away those dark spots in his eyes in order to look at him fully.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio
Comments: 22
Kudos: 175





	sunspots

Kageyama Tobio has sunspots in his vision. Not real sunspots, the sun isn't actually out right now, but instead something much more dazzling and vivid.

Hinata’s face is bright, very bright, sunlight in every pore, and it feels like Kageyama always has to blink away those dark spots in his eyes in order to look at him fully. 

It’s always been like this- Kageyama feels like he spent most of high school squinting. 

Those days are behind them, however- not as far as one would think, but far enough behind them that Kageyama thinks of those days with something like nostalgia. 

It’s hard not to- they were bright days, made brighter by the people- the _friends_ Kageyama had had for the first time in his life. That he still has. It feels like a miracle every time he gets a video message from the kindergartners in Suga’s class wishing him luck before a game, a miracle every time Noya sends their Karasuno group chat photos from wherever he’s off to nowadays, a miracle every time Tsukki offhandedly mentions that he’ll be in Koganei for a game. 

A miracle every time he gets a call from Hinata, bright daylight when it’s night, dusk when Kageyama is waking up, his face tanner every time Kageyama hears his voice crackle through the phone, crowing and vivid. 

It’s harder than Kageyama thought it would be to have Hinata on the other side of the world- the world is easier to see, like an ND filter has clicked on over the camera lens of his vision. It doesn’t mean he likes it more. 

Every time Hinata calls- always through a blurry, pixelated face time call, because he never manages to be in a place with decent internet, Kageyama has to blink a couple of times, like he's calibrating. He doesn’t mind as much as he thinks he would’ve, before. 

They try and see each other every time Hinata flies home to see his parents and Natsu, and they manage it every time but one. Kageyama flies out, once- spends a week in Brazil, hot and colorful and filled with _Hinata_. 

It’s a good country for Hinata, Kageyama thinks. When he stepped off the plane, the light felt stronger than in Japan, the sun closer. 

They get drinks with Oikawa one night, which was- interesting, to say the least. Oikawa has sharpened himself down to a point, on the court- he’s a blade, razor sharp and narrow-eyed with focus. Off the court, his shoulders are a little looser. He looks like he’s not carrying the weight of the world anymore. 

They’re four drinks in, and it’s nearing midnight when Hinata yells that he’s going to the bathroom, fights his way to the back of the bar. Oikawa watches him go, fondness written over his face. 

Then he turns to Kageyama, and his eyes are keen and piercing. Kageyama straightens up automatically. The urge to impress Oikawa still roils under his skin after all these years. 

“He’s glad you came out,” Oikawa says, still staring at Kageyama.

“Yes,” Kageyama agrees, a little confused. He’s not sure what Oikawa’s looking for. “I’m happy to finally see Brazil.”

Oikawa purses his mouth at that, and Kageyama fumbles for something to say, knowing that was the wrong response but not _why_. “I- he fits Brazil,” Kageyama says, voicing his thought. “The sunlight matches.”

Oikawa’s brow goes up at that, and he opens his mouth to say something else, but then Hinata is back- too soon, Kageyama thinks- and complaining about the line being _too long_ and he’s either going to hold it or they could go somewhere else, he thinks there’s a _boteco_ one of his teammate’s recommended nearby, maybe they could check that out?

The rest of the night is blur, and Kageyama wakes up with the worst hangover of his life, and Oikawa is asleep in the bathtub when he stumbles in there the next morning. 

He returns to go pass out again next to Hinata, his stomach roiling, and idly thinks that he’s in a shockingly good mood for how ill he feels. 

Kageyama leaves two days later with Hinata’s tears on the collar of his shirt- he’s still such a cry baby- and a vaguely ill feeling in his gut, like his intestines are twisted the wrong way round. 

He puts a ginger hand on his abs, wondering if he’s getting sick, and his mind flashes to Oikawa’s face, the planes of his cheekbones lit by red light that night in the bar, and wonders why his brain brought up that image.

Six months later and Hinata is on break, back in Miyagi. Kageyama’s there as well, nominally visiting his family, but really there to visit Hinata. When he tells his mother where he’s going, she gives a fond sigh and waves him off. 

He sets down the road, kicking at stones, and thinks about the wry smile on her face, and what it means. 

Kageyama is coming over ostensibly to do work before they go and find some ramen place for dinner. They’re planning to go bother Ukai at the conbini later. Right now, however, they’re situated in Hinata's childhood home, in his bed, trying to focus on work. It feels like they’re back in high school again, trying to help each other puzzle over the math neither of them knew how to do. 

But they’re not fifteen, sixteen anymore and struggling to focus on polynomials when all they _really_ want to do is head out to the backyard, where the packed dirt of the yard and the familiar sting of their forearms awaits them. 

Now they’re twenty and the sting never really goes away, and the packed dirt of the yard still awaits them, because Kageyama _knows_ , knows the same way the sky is blue and the earth turns, that at some point Hinata is going to get bored of whatever work he has to do and turn to Kageyama and beg for a toss.

Kageyama knows in the same way that he’ll give it to him. Tossing to Hinata, watching his face glow as the ball arcs down, perfect every time, perfect for _him_ , is one of life’s purest pleasures. 

But the packed dirt will wait, and Kageyama opens up his gmail with a little sigh and fights the urge to hunch over his laptop like a gargoyle. 

Even professional volleyball players answer e-mails. Hinata’s stupidly orange hair is bent over his laptop, and even the weird sickly glow of his computer screen, lighting up the underside of his chin is beautiful. 

Kageyama’s frowning over the new practice schedule- they’re changing the hours on Thursday- when he hears Hinata choke on a little gasp, and looks up.

"They offered me a spot," Hinata says, and the sheer joy in his eyes- 

“What?” Kageyama says, dazed, blinking away after-images.

“MSBY,” Hinata says. “They- they offered me a spot.”

A pause. 

“That’s in Japan,” Kageyama says, his throat dry.

Hinata gulps, and the big fat crybaby tears he never grew out of are welling up in his eyes already. “It’s in Japan.”

That’s the same timezone, that’s the same god damn country, that’s Hinata a train ride away, that’s tossing for Hinata on weekends and racing him up hills in new neighborhoods, that’s seeing his smile in real life more than every few months, that’s having Hinata within arm’s reach, and Hinata is a fucking rocket, a comet, something celestial and ridiculous and bright and-

“Natsu will be so excited,” Hinata is babbling, “I can actually be home for more than three or four days over the holidays or on breaks like these, and oh my _god_ I missed real dango, and-”

“I’m in love with you.” Kageyama blurts.

Silence settles. 

“What?” Hinata says. He says it, doesn’t squawk, doesn’t shout, just says it a little high pitched and with his eyes even bigger than when he was offered a contract to play volleyball professionally in Japan.

“Oh my god.” Kageyama stares back at him. “Fuck- I- I think I’ve loved you since sophomore year but I didn’t- didn’t realize it until just now. Um. Seeing you. And. _Japan._ ” Kageyama finishes somewhat lamely, feeling his ears heat with red as Hinata keeps staring at him, and oh god-

“Kageyama, you idiot,” Hinata is a blur of orange hair heading directly at Kageyama’s chest, and he's tackled backward on the bed with a somewhat muffled grunt. 

"Hinata," Kageyama says, a little muffled and breathless and- hopeful.

Hinata plants his hands on Kageyama’s chest, raises himself up so Kageyama can see the light haloed around his hair and catch in the tears on his face, and he’s red faced and a little snotty and super gross and holy _shit_ Kageyama really is in love with him, and how the fuck did he not know?

“Really?” Hinata says, and he sounds just as hopeful and Kageyama’s heart sort of- breaks and knits back together all in one motion. 

“Yeah,” Kageyama says. His mouth is dry. A thought strikes him and he frowns. “Oh, maybe this is what Oikawa was talking about?”

Hinata’s thumb pushes in between his eyebrows where there’s a furrowed line, moves along the ridge of his brow. Kageyama’s breath catches in his throat, and he can’t do anything but stare up at Hinata’s still teary face. Hinata’s hands return to Kageyama’s chest, his fingers splayed wide. “You guys talked about me?” He sounds kind of choked up. 

“Uh, a little.” Kageyama says. “I didn’t really get it at the time, I think.” His hands have settled on Hinata’s thighs where they’re on either side of his waist, and he’s distracted by the feeling of hard-earned muscle beneath his fingers. Jesus, his _thighs_ -

“When?” Hinata says, and Kageyama tears his attention away from the skin underneath his hands and back to Hinata’s face. 

“In Brazil,” Kageyama says. “I didn’t- I didn’t get it. I didn’t realize, I mean…” he trails off. 

“That’s because you’re not emotionally intelligent,” Hinata says. His hands are sort of clutching at Kageyama’s shirt, which Kageyama is finding more distracting than he should. 

“Hey,” Kageyama frowns. He’s not _wrong_ , but- another thought strikes him. “Hinata, do you- I mean-“ he knows what he’s trying to ask, but he doesn’t know how to say it. He feels like he’s in middle school again- not high school, because in high school he always had Hinata to anchor him, to stand at his side. Middle school was when he felt alone, felt like he was separate, adrift. He feels like the only thing anchoring him to this bed is the weight of Hinata on top of him. 

“Oh!” Hinata says. He removes one hand from Kageyama’s chest to swipe at the tear tracks on his face, the sleeves of his shirt folded over his hands like paws, and Kageyama feels simultaneously ridiculously bereft of his touch and a little amused at how cute he is. Oh my god, Hinata is _cute_. What the hell. “Of course, Kageyama, _duh_.” Hinata’s saying, and Kageyama swallows, hard.

“Not- not duh,” Kageyama clears his throat, frowns up at him. “ _I_ didn’t know.” Hinata laughs at that and the tears are back, and Kageyama can’t bring himself to care, not when Hinata’s smiling like that.

“You’re so stupid,” Hinata sniffs. “I hate you.”

“Shut up, idiot,” Kageyama says, reflexively and then stops. Should he not say that to a person he’s in love with? Isn’t that a little-

Kageyama's mind, whirring at speeds a little frantic and usually reserved only for volleyball, grinds completely to a halt as Hinata kisses him, his aim a little off center and tears smearing onto Kageyama’s cheeks, now but his mouth is soft and warm and fucking perfect, and Kageyama had thought that there was no way for him to get brighter, but he somehow, impossibly, has, because Kageyama's eyes are closed and he can still feel the light through his eyelids, and it's orange as Hinata's hair.

**Author's Note:**

> if you follow me on any social media i think you saw this first on tumblr, then on twitter, and now it's finally here, greatly expanded. 
> 
> i hope you like it!
> 
> [i'm on twitter (often nsfw)](https://twitter.com/ohwickedsoul)
> 
> [and also on tumblr, if you're still on that bent.](https://ohwickedsoul.tumblr.com/)
> 
> stay safe, stay healthy, be good.


End file.
